


Love Lost

by Elundari



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), F/M, How many ways can Tony Stark fuck up, M/M, Multi, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark's A+ parenting, i'm mean to my characters, more as I think of them..
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elundari/pseuds/Elundari
Summary: How many ways can Tony Stark actually manage to screw things up? Does he even deserve happiness? Can Morgan Stark help redeem him? Morgan is freaking adorable and Tony suddenly doesn't feel like such a genius. Can he figure out how to be a functioning adult?Set from Avengers through to Endgame encompassing the movie storylines. Timelines may be very slightly shifted but mainly the same. relationships will be added as they develop.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, others as they evolve, tony stark/OC





	1. Chapter 1

_We create own demons. Who said that? What does that even mean? Doesn’t matter. I said it ‘cause he said it so now he was famous and that’s basically got said by two well-known guys. I don’t, uh, I’m going to start again, way back at the very beginning, before I even knew it had begun…._

Bethany heaved the heavy crates of beers from the cellar to the backroom of the bar. Her legs ached and her back was sore. She was sure that she was far more dishevelled that she would have like to be. The price she paid for pulling double shifts six days in a row. She only had another eight hours to go. _Oh, the American dream!_ She quickly tidied her hair in the mirror above the sink in the backroom and went up front to man the bar.

Even though it was early the bar was already filling. It wasn’t a fancy place, your shoes regularly stuck to the bare wood floor and it had its fair share of fights but the beer was cheap and plentiful so the customers loved it. Hogan's wasn’t a bad place to work either. Sure the pay sucked but the staff were fun and the boss pretty much left you to your own devices so long as everything got done. Plus he was one of the only people willing to offer Beth a job when shed first moved to New York. She’d worked for a short stint in a pub back home in England so at least she had some familiarity behind the stick as it were.

Claire, one of the other servers was stood taking glasses out of the dishwasher and stacking them behind the bar.

“Oh, good you're done! She exclaimed. “He’s probably going to want serving soon and I can't handle that with a smile!” Claire was friendly when you got to know her, but she liked to keep people at arm's length. The ‘he’ she was referring to was currently sat at the end of the bar nursing yet another whiskey. Beth was almost sure he was homeless. He’d been a fixture for the last four days. Here before Beth started her double and only leaving when they closed. He’d looked like he hadn’t showered in a month four days ago and he hadn’t changed his clothes or bathed since. A fact you could smell just by being near him. Normally homeless people weren’t generally allowed in bars (not enough custom to be worth the hassle) but this guy ordered drinks all day and all night. Always paid cash, often with fifties, was polite and well-spoken and even left tips. It was all at odds to his appearance. Unlike most of their depressed customers, he didn’t come to the bar to chat. He just sat hour after hour nursing his drink. Beth wasn’t entirely sure that he actually had a liver though. In fact, after watching what he put away each day she was amazed he was still alive. Almost as if he sensed her thinking about him he looked up ad lifted his glass to indicate that he did indeed need a refill. Beth pasted her best ‘customers are my world’ smile on her face and walked over.

“Another double?” she asked and was rewarded with a curt nod. Taking a fresh glass, she filled it with a generous double shot and slid it across to him. He tossed a crumpled bill pulled from the pocket of his grubby grey hoodie and held one figure up in the universal ‘wait’ gesture while he drained the glass in one go.

“No change, just a refill” His voice held the gravelly deepness of vocal cords long deprived of water. She leaned over and poured another decent slug straight into the glass in front of him. He nodded his approval and then sat staring blankly at the now filled glass. The way he sat, shoulders slumped, hunched over, he looked like he had the weight of the world on his back. She watched as he ran his hand through the dishevelled hair poking out of the front of his hood.

“You local?” She asked trying to spark up some conversation. He jerked his head in her direction looking surprised that someone had spoken to him.

“Yes and no” he paused for a moment “No not really.” His accent didn’t have the Manhattan drawl that she was used to but she hadn’t been in the US long enough to place where it was from. He’d gone back to staring at the contents he was sloshing around his glass. She opened her mouth to him again but was called away by another customer. The rest of the night passed in a blur of activity and Beth didn’t have a chance to give the stranger a second thought.

Walking home at 3 am was always one of Beth’s favourite times. The city wasn’t asleep, not by a long means, but after the bustle of the day, it was a chance to enjoy some space and peace. Seeing people was not unusual so at first, she didn’t pay any attention to the figure stood on the bridge watching the traffic pass by underneath. If it wasn’t for his slightly off stance she probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance. He was stood on the tips of toes leaning forwards, but instead of leaning on his elbows like most people would he had his arms out to the side, palms flat on the edge of the bridge. Nothing was overtly wrong but something felt… _off_. As she walked closer the dark grey hoodie and the tuft of dark hair poking out front started to look familiar too. It should, she’d been serving it non-stop whiskey for the past four days! She approached him cautiously not wanting to startle him.

“Hey,” she said softly. He didn’t respond. “Fancy meeting you here of all places”. He slowly turned his head to look at her. If she’d had the impression that he looked awful in the bar it was nothing to the pain etched so clearly in his face, showing even through the tangle of overgrown facial hair. It was only there for second before being quickly hidden, an automatic response like a crab scurrying for safely back under a rock, but it was strong enough to leave her feeling unnerved.

“Hmm” he responded turning his face back to the road.

Is everything ok?”

“Peachy” he didn’t even glance at her this time.

“See you tomorrow?” she inquired.

“Maybe..” His speech was slurred from the alcohol but it also sounded tired, so very tired in a bone-deep-to-the-core-of-my-existence kinda way.

“Oookayy, I guess I’ll see you then….” She started to walk past him, slowed down and then stopped, turning back to look at him. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why but every internal alarm bell she had was ringing. She wasn’t sure if it was the dead look in his eyes or something else but deep in her gut, she knew that walking away was not the right thing to do. She ran the options through her head. There were alcohol support groups and homeless shelters that she knew of but none at this time of night. Unless he was directly threatening himself or someone else none of the emergency numbers she knew would be any help. Maybe she could get him some kind of help tomorrow, but that was still many hours away. She shook her head. She knew what she was thinking was equally a bad idea and could almost hear her mum’s lectures about axe murderers running through her ears. She sighed a little and looked back at him. It needed to be done if she was ever going to live with herself.

“Walk with me?” she said to him. He glanced jerkily at her, confusion written all over his face. She held her arm out for him to take.

“Naw….I’m….” he faded off swaying slightly as the effort of formulating a response had taken concentration away from staying upright. She gently looped her arm through his and started leading him away from the edge of the bridge. He looked at her and then looked back at the railings and back at her, eyes struggling to focus. He mumbled an unintelligible sound that she took as ‘what the hell’ and started a slow sway/shuffle next to her.

It didn't take too long for the shuffle to turn into a full-on lean as Beth half walked, half carried him for the rest of the way home. She’d never quite appreciated just how far her _short_ walk home was. After what felt like an age they finally stumbled into her building lobby. Navigating him over to the lift her heart fell as she saw the sign taped to the door. ‘Elevator out of order’. She eyed the staircase weighing up five floors versus abandoning him in the lobby. She sighed, mentally chiding herself for even thinking it as she started hoisting him towards the stairwell. At floor three she almost wished she had left him as he threw up all over himself. By the time they reached her door, she was sore, sweaty and desperately in need of a change of clothes. Some quick fumbling with her keys and they were inside. She manoeuvred him onto a chair at the table just inside the door and took her shoes and now filthy jacket off. The smell of unwashed drunk was permeating the apartment. She went to the bathroom and started running hot water into the tub. She came back to the kitchen to find him slumped over, head pillowed on his arms settling comfortably on the table.

“Come on you.” She said manhandling him to his feet. “Time to clean up!” He was semi-aware by the time she got him in the bathroom and seemed to understand putting his clothes next to the door. A few moments after leaving she heard the sloosh of bathwater indicating that he had got in. She carefully retrieved his vomit soaked clothes from the door opening, thanking every laundry god there was that she lived in a building with a laundry room in the basement. She briefly considered putting his clothes in for a boil wash before deciding that a prewash with extra detergent was less likely to ruin them. She returned to her apartment and dug out some baggy grey track pants and an oversized white teeshirt and knocked gingerly on the bathroom door. No Reply.

“Great.” She muttered to herself. She pushed the door open. “Hey, everything ok?” Her enquiry was met by soft snores. She looked across at him and huffed _perfect!_ He was passed out cold, naked in the bathtub. Beth shook him by his shoulder trying to rouse him but to no avail. She stood with her hands on her hips surveying the situation.

“Well, this is what you get for bringing strays home Bethany.” She scolded herself. Rolling her sleeves up she took the loofah and quickly scrubbed most of the dirt off and shampooed the greasy hair, pulling the plug to drain the water. He was still out cold, and there was no waking him. Hauling his wet, naked, slippery body out of the bath was much more awkward than she ever wanted to remember and dressing him was like dressing the worlds most unhelpful toddler! Eventually, she had him settled on the sofa with a blanket draped over him. A moments assessment made her turn him on his side and place a bucket underneath where his head was, just in case. A quick shower herself and it was finally time for this day to end. She did make the small concession to her mum’s advice and clicked the lock on her bedroom door…..you know…..just in case…


	2. Chapter 2

Pain lanced through his head. He tried to peel his eyes open but the light was like needles in his eyes. Everywhere hurt. Whoever said that existence was suffering had definitely hit that nail on the head. He tried to sit up but his entire body said nope. He felt a hand go to the back of his head and something cold press against his parched lips. The unmistakable taste of effervescent something poured through his mouth and he sucked it down before flopping his head back onto the pillow. He tried to focus on his breathing to blot out the pain from his head. Well this hurt too much to be dead so that great plan hadn’t worked out. The pain relief slowly fought back the violent pounding in his temples and he was finally able to peel his eyelids from his eyeballs. Where in the living hell was he? He took in his surroundings. Small living room with a cheap rug and a small tv. God who still had a tube tv in 2008? Had he somehow drank himself back in time? He swung his legs around and sat up swaying slightly. Two things came to him at once. Firstly these were not his clothes, secondly, he was not alone. He turned to look behind where the sofa was. Two doors were partially open to the left and to the right was a small kitchen area. A woman sat nursing a mug of something…..god he hoped that was coffee…and she was watching him. Now, this was far from the first time that he’d woken up in either a strange place or with a strange woman but he usually had slightly more recollection than this, plus he usually woke up in bed…

“Good morning sunshine” she chirped at him. Oh god, a morning person.

“Um, you have a bathroom?” he managed to croak out. She pointed to the first door. He dragged himself upright, the world spinning slightly and staggered to the door, pleasantly pleased that it only took two attempts to actually get through. He relieved himself and then splashed some water on his face. He examined his reflection in the mirror. He sorely needed a haircut and a shave. His mouth tasted like….well he didn’t want to think what his mouth tasted like. He eyed the solitary toothbrush.

Tempting… he settled for some toothpaste on his finger. One last look in the mirror. Sure he still looked like crap with bloodshot eyes but he felt a little more human. He made his way to the kitchen where the person…he wracked his brains for a name and draw nothing, was standing by the counter. She indicated he sit and asked if he wanted a tea or a coffee.

“Coffee please, black.” She busied herself while he sat and watched her, taking in the slightly too long face and grey eyes. Her brown hair was tied back in an efficient ponytail. Something tickled the back of his mind. He felt like he knew her from somewhere, or should do at least. She handed him his coffee with a smile and sat down. He drew a huge mouthful. Oh god! It was instant! He eyed the coffee machine on the side and wondered why for the love god would anyone suffer instant coffee voluntarily. Still, it was caffeine so he gulped it down. She sat observing him. He wondered if she was waiting for him to say something.

“Er, did we…?” he flipped a finger back and forth between them.

“Oh goodness, no! We don’t even know each other's name! Speaking of which I’m Beth.” She extended her hand towards him and he took it in his.

“Tony.” He said.

“Well, it's very nice to meet you, Tony.” She took a sip from her own mug.

“Where do we know each other from?”

“Well, you have spent the last four days across the bar from me.” He furrowed his brows thinking. “Hogan’s?” she added. Oh! That rang a faint bell. Tony vaguely remembered choosing the bar because it reminded him of Happy. Speaking of which the aforementioned was probably taking the city apart right now searching for him. He grimaced at the thought and groaned involuntarily.

“You put a bit back but it wasn’t that bad.” She said reassuringly. He raised an eyebrow at her. She stood up and started moving around the kitchen. “Do you want anything to eat? Some toast maybe? Or a sandwich?” He nodded (something which his head was still VERY much against) and watched her pop two slices of bread in a toaster. She was still talking as she disappeared into the living room and came back with a stack of what he recognised were his clothes.

“Freshly laundered!” She said proudly, dropping them onto the seat of the chair next to him and then busied herself buttering the toast. His mind felt that she was too bright and moving too fast. He was also 90% certain that whiskey would solve both of these issues along with his still pounding head. However, he strongly suspected that she didn’t have any or if she did and it was a similar calibre to her coffee then he would probably need a whiskey before drinking it. He came out of his train of thought to notice that the woman (Beth had she said?) was nowhere to be seen but toast had appeared in front of him along with a glass of…was that water? He shuddered. He nibbled at the toast with no appetite but suddenly realised that he was a) ravenous and b) had no clue when he last ate so devoured both slices in a few bites. The person was back and talking to him again but his head was still like soup so he had to force himself to listen to what she was saying.

“….going to work now…..spare key….help yourself to anything you need…” She placed something on the counter next to the door. He assumed the key she had been talking about, smiled and left. He was alone. He liked alone. No one to judge you. He thought about leaving, but to go where? Back to the craziness hed been actively trying to end? Hell no. He briefly considered investigating the apartment but both his head and his body were in agreement of vetoing that! Nope, the pillow and blanket won and he settled down for a nap.

He awoke with a start. The room was pitch black. It took him a moment to recall where he was. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom. The dishes were gone from the table and the second door from the living room was closed so he assumed he was no longer alone. He knew one thing, he needed a drink and not of the non-alcoholic variety. Sauntering across he decided to rummage through the kitchen clicking the light on. The clock on the wall said it wasn’t quite six am. Tony rummaged through the fridge, a small piece of cheese, off-brand OJ – and not much of it, some mayo, some milk. He closed the door to probe the cupboards, much of the same. He settled for a bowl of store brand fruity-O’s. He assumed they were supposed to be fruit loops, they were at least sugary. He did, however, manage to find real treasure as he’d hunted for the better-than-nothing imitation instant, half a bag of actual coffee! He put a measured amount into the coffee machine, filled the water tank and flipped the switch. With the distinct lack of alcohol, his mouth watered at thought of real coffee! Nothing. The machine sat dead, mocking him from its place on the counter. Frowning he followed the cord and flipped on the socket switch. Still nothing. 

“Son of a bitch” he muttered under his breath. There was no way a mere machine was going to deprive his parched brain cells of some much-needed caffeine! He started to systematically rifle through the drawers to find anything he could use to repair it. The search totalled a butter knife, a metal nail file, toothpicks, some tape and some gorilla glue.

Come on Stark you like a challenge, time to channel your inner MacGyver! The nail file was just screwing the final screw back into place as Beth joined him in the kitchen just before 9.

“Oh, that doesn’t work. Sorry, I forgot to mention that.”

“We’ll see about that” Tony responded defiantly standing to plug the machine back in. He added the coffee and water containers and hit the power button. The machine spurted joyously to life. 

“Wow. I’m impressed! Are you some kind of mechanic or something?” Tony raised his eyebrows stunned. It suddenly struck him that she, somehow, had no clue who he was. It was a strange yet oddly freeing sensation.

“Erm, yeah, something like that. What a cup?”

“I’ve love one!” She smiled warmly at him gratefully accepting the hot cup before adding milk and sugar. He watched her savour the aroma before they both took long mouthfuls.

“Mmm, I’ve missed real coffee,” She sighed. Tony could definitely get behind that sentiment. They sat in slightly awkward silence for a few minutes before Tony piped up

“So, are you in the habit of bringing strange men home?” She blushed fiercely, right to the roots of her hair.

“Certainly not when you put it like that!” She insisted primly. His amusement brought a small smirk to his face. He also picked up an accent that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Australian?”He asked.

“English” she responded.

“Oh well, I guess the colonies all sound like the master.” He teased.

“Says the American.” She retorted.

“Yeah ok, fair point. So why did you lure me back here?” He looked at her. “Planning to ransom me or just turn me into a lamp?” She chuckled at that.

“Definitely not planning on a new lamp.” She said. “Plus I didn’t lure you here….it was more dragged.” She admitted.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“And I couldn’t actually tell you why. You just seemed…….lost, like you needed a place to stay.”

“Yeah, I've been lost most of my life I think.” He said softly.

She looked at him earnestly, an open invitation to continue talking. He shook his head slightly and took another drink of his coffee, focusing on the bitter taste as a way to not think about his life.

“Is there anyone I can call for you? Do you have any place to go?” He paused for a moment. Sure he had places, lots of them, just none that he wanted to be at right now. She took his hesitation to mean no.

“I mean you are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you want. I can help put you in touch with housing and alcohol support groups.” She said gently. She seemed to mean well. He was almost, almost starting to feel bad for judging her by the contents of her fridge and her cheap furniture.

“Hmmph.” He snorted. “Thanks but I think I have enough desire chips to open my own casino.” He brooded for a moment on yet another of the many reasons why Tony-Stark-is-a-shitty-human-being.

“Oh well. Baby steps.” She paused. “You probably don’t need me to remind you to hydrate well because the next day or so can get rough.”

“Yeah, alcohol withdrawal’s a bitch, whiskey helps though!” He grinned.

“I wish I knew if you were joking, I think you are..” She gave him credit catching onto his theme of self-deprecating humour. They chatted aimlessly for the next few hours. She told him a lot about herself but never pried for information about his life, and he didn’t volunteer it. There was coffee and no judgement. As mornings went he’d had worse. She left for work leaving him to flip mindlessly through the few free tv channels. This was one of the problems with being sober, everything was so dull. The gradually increasing pounding in his head eventually convinced him that the way forwards was painkillers and napping.

Hot everything was hot….burning…people were around him but he couldn’t talk to them, they couldn’t hear him. Cold hand against his forehead, spinning back around, is dad yelling and lashing out in a rage, his mom cooing to him stroking his hair trying to soothe him, more bright flashes of colour, something cold on his lips then down again back into the dark place…..

He jerked awake, drenched in sweat. His first realisation that he was in bed was quickly driven out of his mind by his need to throw up…NOW! He threw the covers back to climb out of the bed and managed one whole step before his legs gave way and he went crashing to the floor hard. Just as he was about to vomit a bucket appeared in front of him. He grabbed at it, desperately holding onto the edge as all of his insides hastily tried to become his outsides. The first bout came to an end allowing him the awareness of two things, he was weak and shaky and that someone was rubbing his back soothingly. He opened his mouth to say something which was apparently a very bad idea and he spent the next few moments heaving into the bucket again until it felt like his ribs were on fire. He pulled back panting a little. A glass appeared in his peripheral vision.

“Here have some of this.” He grasped the cool glass gratefully rinsing his mouth before swallowing the water. The hand removed the glass when he was done. Then the arms were wrapping around him helping him to his feet and shifting him back into the bed. He sank into the pillows exhausted. The figure appeared again.

“Here take this, it will help with the sickness.” She popped something in his mouth followed by more water. He laid his head back panting slightly. He felt fingers running through his hair helping him relax and he drifted back to sleep.

When he next awoke he was alone. A lamp was switched on by the bed and a glass of water sat by it. He reached out and drank the water down in one. It had sat on the side long enough to be room temperature. He looked around the unfamiliar room. Just a bed with bedside tables, a dresser and a door to what he assumed was a closet. He swung his legs out of bed and tested them before trying to walk. A little weak but manageable. He ventured out of the bedroom into the living room. The room was dark but he could hear soft slow breathing. He looked over the back of the sofa to see Beth fast asleep breathing softly. He noticed her dark eyelashes fanning her cheeks. He’d never noticed how pretty her cheekbones were. He felt immediately, and strangely, guilty for invading her privacy and backed off to go into the bathroom.

He hadn’t counted on just how weak he was and was starting to tire badly after he left the bathroom, even holding onto the wall wasn’t doing as much as he’d hoped. He was just starting to calculate the likelihood of making it back to the bedroom at all when an arm wrapped itself around his waist and a shoulder came up beneath his arm taking his weight.

“Come on, lean on me.” She said, so he did holding tight until she settled him back on the bed. She shuffled him back, lifted his legs and tucked him in. His dark eyes fixed on her.

“How are you feeling?” She enquired.

“Umm, better I think…” She leaned forward and felt his forehead, then looked over his face and finally into his eyes.

“Well your fever seems to have broken and you have a bit more colour to you. Think you can manage a bite to eat?” His stomach growled a hungry response as though on cue “I’ll take that as a yes” she chuckled and left the room leaving the door ajar. Tony listened to the sound of a pot being put on a stove followed shortly by a delicious smell permeating the apartment and making his mouth water with anticipation. Beth soon appeared with a bowl sat on a tray that she put on his lap. He looked at the chicken noodle soup and his stomach growled appreciatively.

“I think I’ve got my references right.” She said. “That is the traditional food Americans eat when they're recovering isn’t it? That and ginger ale.” She smiled teasingly and Tony couldn’t help but grin a little. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” He said as he scooped a spoonful of the soup. It only made it halfway to his mouth before his hand started shaking uncontrollably and he spilt it. He tried again only for the same thing to happen. He growled with frustration. Beth plucked the spoon from his fingers.

“Come here, let me help.” She said as she spoon-fed him the first mouthful. His initial mortification was soon stripped away by his appetite. It was a strange feeling being fed by someone. Tony couldn’t ever remember it happening before. Well odd bits of fruit but that wasn’t exactly in a feeding sense, that was in a very different manner, this was….caring, nurturing almost. She finished feeding him and took the bowl away settling it on top of the dresser. She sat on the edge of the bed watching him.

“I’m sorry.” He said remorse etched on his face.

“What for?” She asked.

“This, everything. Being a pain in the ass. Ending up here in the first place, hell existing I guess…” She let him finish and took a deep long thoughtful breath. After she exhaled she started to speak.

“Never be sorry for tackling your demons, they will always test your strength. Never be sorry for being yourself, you have gifts that are uniquely you and above all never ever feel like you have to apologise to a friend helping you because they want to and they care about you. You matter, never forget that.” She had a look on her face that was almost sad. “Anyway, I’m enjoying your company.” She said matter of factly. She stood up collecting the soup bowl and left the room leaving Tony to digest what she had said. Well it certainly proved to him that she had no clue who he was. Tony had only ever had one friend his entire life. As a rule of thumb decent people, the ones that weren’t interested in money didn’t want anything to do with Tony, others really loved him so long as his bank balance kept flowing in their direction. Three he supposed if he counted Happy and Pepper but he employed them so they had to be friendly. He wanted for a moment to tell her who he really was, ached for it almost, but he knew that despite his hope of acceptance she’d make him leave and he wasn’t strong enough yet. He sighed and leaned back into the pillows. The soup made a nice warm bubble but it couldn’t rid him of the hollow feeling that had formed. This feeling he was used to. Beth came back in and went to the other side of the bed.

“May I?” she asked indicating towards the space next to him.

“It’s technically your bed so I can’t stop you.” She arched an eyebrow at his response “No, seriously I don’t mind.” She sat on the bed and shuffled herself back to lean against the pillows next to Tony.

“I didn’t mean to make you frown so much.” She teased lightly. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “But just so you know I mean what I said, and if you ever need to talk know that I’m here for you.” She looked at him solemnly. A look he found hard to meet. “Anyway lighter topics, you look like you're feeling a little better, at least not like you’re about to nap. The TV is shocking at this time of night and I don’t have too many books that I think will interest you so do you fancy chatting for a bit?”

“Sure, why not?” He settled back as she started by regaling him of all the funny mishaps she’d had when she’d first moved, especially the English to English ‘language barrier’ (Who knew pants were so very different and don’t even start on the chips issue!) She talked about her family and her friends. Funny little tidbits from her past. It was actually quite soothing. Tony realised after a while that her accent reminded him of hanging out in the kitchen with Jarvis when he was a kid. They were particularly fond memories for him. Eventually, he must have dozed off again as he woke up alone. He was at least feeling much better. His head was clear and he no longer felt shakey. He did feel like he badly needed a shower. He opened the door to the bedroom. Daylight flooded the apartment but he appeared to be alone. He grabbed the clean clothes from the kitchen chair and made his way to the bathroom.

It's amazing the difference a hot shower can make. The steaming water poured over his head and down his body. He felt better than he had in months and he wasn’t entirely convinced that it was just the lack of alcohol that was responsible for it. He rubbed himself dry and quickly dressed, towelling his hair as he left the bathroom. He wasn’t ready for the face that appeared over the back of sofa scaring him half to death and threatening to cost him a small fortune in coronary care bills.

“Jesus! I thought you were at work!”

“No, I was just laid here reading.” She smirked. “But I’m glad you're up, want breakfast? I went to the store earlier and I want to try something.”

“Sure, I guess so.” The adrenaline slowly leaving his body. She grinned and went to the kitchen while he put his towel and dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. He made his way to the kitchen to be greeted by the smell of frying bacon and pancakes. His stomach approved this development. The only smell missing was coffee so he set about brewing a pot. The coffee finished just as the pancakes were being set on the table.

“Truth time I’ve never actually made these before but they seem to be typically American. You’ll have to let me know how they are.” She took a forkful of pancake and ate it. Tony followed suit with a large piece of pancake filling his mouth. It was warm and bacony and ….chewy! He tried to eat some more but they were truly the worst pancakes he’d ever eaten. He tried not to pull a face until he looked up and saw Beth pulling a face that pretty much summed up how he felt.

“Please tell me that’s not how they’re supposed to taste…” she said grimacing.

“No, it's not.”

“Oh good because they’re bloody awful!” He nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, they are pretty bad.” He agreed. They looked at each other and both started laughing. She picked her coffee mug up.

“Thank God for coffee!” She said. Tony lifted his own mug in a faux toast.

“Amen to that!” Breakfast ended up as toast with the ready cooked bacon.

While she had been out Beth had also picked up some Tony sized clothes from a thrift store, a cheap pay-as-you-go phone and some DVD rentals from Blockbuster. They spent the evening lounging on the sofa with a giant mixing bowl of popcorn. During Transformers Tony kept butting in all the ways that technology couldn’t do whatever was being shown on screen.

“Yeah but don’t forget they’re aliens not robots, Tony!”

“Well, I’m just saying that there’s no actuator in the world that could pull that off. You only have to factor in the sheer mass without even considering the mobility needed for the transformation…” He said through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Well it’s a good job that they’re not of this world then!” Her amusement at the lighthearted debate was evident.

“My point is still valid..” He said smugly. Beth stared at him intently for a moment.

“You’re really smart, you know that right?”

“I have been told before…”

“You could really do something with that if you wanted to.” The pause was a bit too uncomfortable for Tony’s liking.

“But I’m so good at wasting my potential. I’ve been told it’s my primary skill!” He popped another kernel into mouth jovially but his own comment had hit him deeper than he cared to register. She smiled at him but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“And the shield of self-deprecating jokes come out.” She said sadly. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean for it to come across like I was pushing you only that….I don’t know, that I was proud of you or something.” She waved her hand dismissively but she looked upset. Tony found him not liking that at all.

“Thanks…” He said hesitantly. “For believing in me..” God he felt awkward but a tiny bubble in him felt extraordinarily pleased and he couldn’t quite place a finger on why. Beth looked at him intently and reached for his hand.

“Always Tony.” She said softly. He swallowed a few times. A lump inexplicably forming in his throat. He was struggling to process quite what he was feeling when he found himself being pulled into a hug. He momentarily froze when Beth’s arms wrapped around him before relaxing into the contact and wrapping his arms around her. It was…..nice. He could count on the fingers of one hand all the people who had ever hugged him like that, Mom, Jarvis, Rhodey once at graduation and now Beth. The memories flooding back threatened to overwhelm him with emotion. He pulled back and sat with his eyes tightly closed focusing on his breathing. Get it together Stark, You’re losing your mind! It took him a few minutes to compose himself before he reopened his eyes. Beth was watching him, concern all over her face.

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re ok as I can see that you’re not, but I want to apologise for crossing what appears to be a pretty significant boundary for you. If I ever do that again please tell me to stop.” He managed a small smile.

“it’s not….you didn’t….It’s just been a long time since anyone has…I dunno…hugged me. God, I’m pathetic aren’t I?” He blurted out wiping his hands down his face and taking in another deep breath.

“No, not at all! Touch is a massive part of being human and if its something you’ve been lacking it could go a long way to helping you figure out how to beat your demons.” He grey eyes were wide and steady watching him.

“I’ve had human touch before, god probably way too much…” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “…but not…like that…..that was….different. I dunno its sounds stupid when I say it out loud.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think so, I think it sounds honest. I take it you and your family aren’t overly close?” He shook his head.

“My parents died in a car crash 17 years ago and I was their only child, but even before that I wouldn’t exactly call us close.” She waited to allow him to speak. “Dad was in his fifties when they had me. A last-ditch effort to pass on his name I suppose. He was always busy working he was rarely home and when he was I seemed to exist only to piss him off and crush him with disappointment.” He gave a twisted smile at the memory. “I mean I guess with hindsight he was just trying to push me but he just came across as cold and calculating. When things went wrong he’d get drunk and fly into a rage. I guess that’s where I get being a drunken asshole from.”

“You were drunk but you’ve never been an asshole,” Beth interjected. 

“ Yeah well hang around me a bit more it’ll happen…” He sighed. “Mom tried her best, She’d try to divert him especially when he really lost it…” A shadow of memory crossed his face. “But she had her hands full with him most of the time, that or drinking herself. I guess alcoholism is the thing that defines us as a family.” He grimaced. 

“I’m sure it’s not but I can see why you’d think that.” She squeezed the hand she was holding. Tony hadn’t even realised that she’d taken it. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It is what it is you know. Can’t change it” He shrugged.

“No, but you don’t have to let it define you either.” He looked at her sadly.

“I wish I had your faith.”

“And I wish you could see yourself through my eyes…” It was getting too honest for Tony.

“Yeah well considering the haircut and beard trim I need it’s probably a good job that I can’t!” Recognising his deflection for what it was Beth drew attention back to the movie playing away to itself but when she placed a cushion inconspicuously on her lap it didn’t take Tony too long to settle his head on it and relax deeply while she ran her fingers through his hair.

By the time the movies ended it was definitely time for bed. Tony was reluctant to move. It was the first time in a long time that he felt relaxed and at ease. A selfish part of him didn’t want that to come to an end.

“You’re going to have to move.” She chuckled. He sighed and took a moment just looking up at her before swinging his leg round and sitting up. “You should keep using the bedroom.” She said to his surprise. 

“Why? I’m not sick anymore.”

“No, but you don’t really fit on the sofa, not without having to bend somewhere and I fit just fine so you should take the room.” She nodded definitively.

“Um, no, it’s your apartment and your bed it would be rude of me to take it.”

“You’re my guest, you should.” She smiled sweetly. Tony was not being outwitted that easily.

“As the guest, I should get the choice.” He smiled smugly giving himself a mental high five for using her own logic against her.

“And if I choose to just lay down here?” She moved her legs up onto the sofa and smiled sweetly again.

“Fine! I’ll just sleep on the rug.” He tossed his cushion down onto the floor and flopped down on it. His hipbones registering exactly how thin it was.

“Jesus, I wouldn’t make a dog sleep there.” She frowned at him thoughtfully. “I get the feeling you’re not going to let me win this argument are you?”

“Nope!” He had his eyes closed feigning sleep for dramatic effect but heard her chuckle and then get up off the sofa. He rolled onto his back to watch her. She stopped halfway to the bedroom and turned back to look at him. He tucked his hands behind his head raising a questioning eyebrow at the satisfied look on her face.

“How about a gentlemanly draw?” She asked.

“Well not many people would call me a gentleman!” He laughed.

“Fine it doesn’t matter.” She good-naturedly huffed. Tony sat up crossed-legged intrigued.

“Ok seriously, I’ll pay attention hit me with it.” He watched her mull something over for a moment.

“Well, I was thinking, I mean only if you’re comfortable with it, but I mean, there’s room in the bed for two people….I share with my brother when he visits…” She trailed off slightly awkwardly. He hesitated, more at the feeling that had just unexpected erupted in his chest than at the question. “It’s fine, you don’t have to I was just…”

“I’d love too!” He butted in. She smiled almost shyly. Damn, that’s a cute look! Whoa, get a grip Stark! He mentally chided himself.

“Just promise not to serial kill me if I snore ok?” She joked.

“I will try not to but I’m making no promises” He smiled and lifted himself off the floor.

She was already sat in bed when he came back from the bathroom. He came into the room and closed the door standing hovering at the bottom of the bed. Her heart ached for him, he looked so…lost, so unsure. She didn’t know his past but it was obvious that someone sometime had done a lot of damage to the poor guy’s psyche. He was shifting his weight between the balls of his feet, head tilted slightly down but eyes focused on the bed beside her, almost as if he was weighing up what could go wrong. His face was caught in one of his oh-so-rare unguarded moments, full of pain and at the same time reminding her of a dog desperate to steal a piece of food yet afraid of the punishment. She pulled the duvet back and patted the exposed sheet.

“You can get in you know.”

“Yeah, right, ok.” He nodded started forward and then stopped himself. “You’re sure you’re still ok with this? He asked hesitantly.

“Well I mean if you talk in your sleep there’s no guarantee I won't smother you with your pillow.” She said seriously. His eyes widened a fraction taken aback. “I’m just kidding! Yes I’m sure! Please come to bed Tony.” He gave a curt nod, walked around the bed and climbed under the covers. Beth wriggled down the bed a little to put her head on the pillow and looked across at Tony before reaching for the bedside light. He was laid right on the very edge of the bed. In fact, it was nothing short of a miracle that he wasn’t sliding off. She turned her body to face him.

“You know you can scooch on a little more.” She said gently. He was clearly already spooked by something. He turned his head towards her. It was strange their eyes being at the same level she thought.

“I don’t want to invade your space.” He said simply. Beth sighed.

“Tony, you’re not invading my space I’m choosing to, no wait, I want to share it with you. Please let me.” She looked into his deep brown eyes. He blinked a few times like he was contemplating something, nodded and moved across a little more. Still laid stiffly on his back. She smiled warmly at him. “Thank you” she said and rolled over clicking off the light. She was just on the verge of dozing off when Tony spoke.

“I’m just not used to sharing with someone.” She turned back to face him and could see in the darkness that not only had he turned on his side to face her but his face was only about an inch from hers. She could smell the minty toothpaste on his breath.

“Honestly, neither am I. Except for my brother the odd times that he visits.”

“Yeah but you were kids together so that doesn’t really count.” He said softly, voice low.

“Not really. Mum and Dad adopted him at 14. I was already two years older.”

“Hmm that must have been a little strange.”

“Honestly he’s my best friend. I hope you get to meet him someday.”

“What you introduce your family to all the random drunks you bring home?” Even through the dark she could see a teasing glint in his eyes. She loved that he was relaxing.

“Only the ones I really like.” She teased back and could have sworn that she saw him blush a little. He didn’t come back with anything. “Goodnight Tony, sweet dreams.” She laid her hand on his upper arm.

“Goodnight.” He whispered back. Beth turned back onto her other side and went soundly to sleep.

Tony stayed awake longer trying desperately to shut his mind off. What was going off with him? First he’d been almost afraid to get into bed. Yeah because getting INTO bed with a woman has always been your problem hasn’t it Stark? He’d gotten past that, hell he’d almost gotten comfy and then he’d had to open his stupid mouth! He couldn’t even pinpoint what in the conversation had caused it but it had been so…intimate it overwhelmed him in a way that made him feel like he was being unmade. He felt like he wanted to cry and scream and be hugged all at the same time. It took everything he had to just lie there. And there were his treacherous senses playing havoc with him. He was hyperaware of the heat of Beth’s body, like a furnace, and the smell of the subtle scent of her shampoo. Feelings he couldn’t quite name made him want to grab her and bury his nose deep into her hair and not remotely in the way he usually felt around women. Jesus Stark you’ve already been Stockholmed! God help you in an actual hostage environment! Slowly he focused on switching every muscle off and pushing all feelings down into his stomach which was adamant to flip flop against his will. He was exhausted when he finally fell asleep.

He was still the first to wake. The gloom told him it was early but he felt relaxed and safe. It took a second for his brain to register that something wasn’t quite right. He was snuggled deeply into Beth. She was facing him with her arms wrapped around him and her chin and nose buried into his hair. His head was pillowed on her chest with his arms around her. He’d also managed to somehow intertwine one of his legs with hers. He felt his cheeks burn. She still seemed blissfully asleep and unaware. He thought about how he could extract himself without waking her (virtually impossible), and then how she would react to waking like this. He quickly quashed his first thought of her throwing him out and tried to relax his mind. The more he did, however, the less he wanted to move at all. Laying exactly how he was felt like….like…he found he had nothing to compare it to only that it felt like how he’d always imagined what ‘home’ should feel like when he’d been a kid fantasising about a different life. But it was more than that, he felt….protected…cherished….worthwhile. He wondered if this was what it felt like when you were really close with someone and was suddenly incredibly envious of everyone who got to share their bed with someone they cared about every day. Shit, are you starting to care for her Stark? That annoying voice in his head niggled. He tried to push the thought out but instead ended up playing with it in his mind until he fell blissfully back asleep. When he awoke next she was gone and he felt….lonely…..

He washed and dressed and made his way into the living area. He could hear Beth’s voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. He rounded the corner of the kitchen and saw why. She was humming and singing the odd few words to music that he could barely make out through her earphones. She was dancing while she was cleaning. He leaned against the wall content to watch. The whole scene brought a smile to his face and the warm fuzzy feeling that he was starting to enjoy getting to his chest. He’d only managed to watch for a few minutes before she turned slightly and jumped out of her skin.

“Holy crap you scared me!” she said as she was removing her earbuds letting them dangle on their wires. “I thought you were still sleeping!” She then blushed. “How long have you been there?”

“Just a few minutes.” She nodded, relief evident.

“How did you sleep?”

“Yeah…about that.” He said sheepishly. “I’m sorry….for anything I may have inadvertently done in my sleep.” It was his turn to feel awkward nerves as he remembered how he first woke.

“Oh, the fact that you’re a cuddler?” She teased. He felt his heart drop and his cheeks flame. “Hey, I was only joking!” The teasing tone had been replaced by one of concern as she reached out for him.

“Yeah….I’m……I’m……” he stammered. Beth pulled him gently forwards and sat him on the kitchen chair. His head hung down, his face burning with shame. Really Stark of all the things you’ve done with women in your time and this is what embarrasses you? He was a little surprised when something mentally countered yeah but this one matters! He only noticed when she pulled away from him that he’d had his head resting on her stomach while she had been stroking his hair. She crouched down so she could look him straight in the eyes.

“What do I have to do to prove to you that you deserve to exist?” She said sadly cupping the side of his face. She sighed, closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his, bringing her other hand up to his other cheek. His entire existence zeroed in on her thumbs tracing lazy circles across his cheekbones. She shook her head slowly rocking it against his forehead. “You’re so wrapped up in self-doubt that you can't even see what an amazing person you are.” 

“I’m…..not…” He started to murmur.

“Shut up Tony and listen. You are a decent person, you have a good heart and deep inside you have a good soul and like hell is anyone going to change my mind on that. Especially you.” What had started as a passionate outburst ended in a whisper and she was looking deep into his eyes again. Tony found that he was struggling to draw air in. Emotions whirled through him and he’d be damned if he could concentrate on anything with her so close that their noses were side by side.

“I wish you could see you as I do.” She whispered hoarsely. He started to form a response but before he could do anything her lips were on his kissing him softly. He hesitated for the smallest fraction of a second, afraid he was somehow going to screw it up and then he kissed her back, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her. He felt like a drowning man finally being given air, only she was his air. When they finally broke apart he scanned her face waiting for the scorn, the slap whatever was going to prove that he’d fucked up again. Instead, he saw a face looking at him filled with love and compassion. She pulled his head to her chest wrapping her arms around his shoulders and nuzzling her nose into his hair before kissing the top of his head. She sighed.

“Tony I’m sor….no screw that I’m not sorry for that, I fully intended to kiss you then. I will apologise if I made you uncomfortable.” Her fingers were running gently through his hair. He nuzzled his face closer so he didn’t have to look at her.

“You can’t….we can’t….this can’t be.” He said, pressing his face in closer as emotion threatened to leak from his eyes. It’s for the best Stark, end it here before she gets her heart broken. She rested her cheek on the top of his head.

“Let me guess, you’re married with three kids?” she said gently. She felt his responding chuckle.

“No. I wish it was that simple. I’ve done…..things…that I’m not proud of. I’ve made more mistakes and fucked up my life more than anyone should have to put up with.” He paused almost holding his breath for her response. She waited a moment before asking.

“Are you on some most wanted list?”

“No.” he chuckled “But I probably should be.”

“Have you ever deliberately hurt someone?” Well…not directly 

“No,” he said slowly.

“Ok. Do you have so much crushing debt that the lack of kneecaps could become a serious concern?” He actually laughed at that. Not only the wording but the absolute absurdity of it in his case.

“No.” He said firmly. She leaned slightly away from him turning his face up so that he had to look at her.

“Then I don’t care because every bad decision and every fuck up you’ve ever made ended up shaping you into the person that I’m looking at, and I happen to like that person very very much.” She looked earnestly at him until he nodded his understanding and then leaned forward to kiss him again, softly, gently and filled with as much emotion as she could pour into a kiss. She ruffled his hair as she pulled her head away.

“Now that I’ve poured my heart out to you I think it’s time for some breakfast.” She smiled at him gently and lightly leapt of off his lap. He sat, eyes following her around the kitchen, brain desperately trying to process a whole host of new emotions while his chest happily danced a rumba.


End file.
